The Deceptive Waltz
by TheTilly
Summary: AU, fifth year. Imagine if Voldemort, wasn't evil in another universe. Now, imagine what it would be like if he came into a universe where he was evil, and only Dumbledore knew the truth. Meet Professor R.T. Fiennes, Hogwart's newest teacher.
1. The Headmaster's Request

Just a random story idea that popped into my head.

**Summary:** AUish. The beginning of Harry's fifth year another teacher, besides the horrible Umbridge, comes to Hogwarts. However, this teacher seems be more than just another Teacher. That, and his wand is identical to Voldemort's. Canon Pairing(s)

**What you Need to Know :** This goes along with 50 of the story line in the books. It starts from the summer before book 5, just because I want another teacher who likes to torment Umbridge, mainly. (Yes, I will admit that I only went this far back to get horrible revenge on that woman. But, who wouldn't be tempted?) This story is written as close to the books as I can manage. Of course JK and I will have different writing styles, naturally. However, I will try my hardest to keep everyone as In Character as possible!

And I'm rubbish with coming up with good names.

Now, please enjoy!

**The Deceptive Waltz**

_A Story by Kristin Bender_

**Chapter One**

**The Headmaster's Request**

The streets were silent at this hour of the night. Each house had its lights off and most likely all those inside had tucked into bed hours ago. Even the neighborhood cats and dogs seemed to be snoozing. The usually bright lamps seemed to flicker for a few moments before each flame sprang from its place. Each one flew directly to an object which looked like a Muggle lighter, and which snapped closed when the last of them entered.

Dumbledore smiled warmly to himself as he pocketed his Deluminator into his blue cloak. He patted the area; as anyone would have guessed, a sign of making sure it had not disappeared. Though, to anyone who was wise enough to know the brilliant wizard, they would say he was merely thanking his beloved object for its work. Dumbledore strolled down the street as though it were his own familiar halls, his old hands clasped together behind his back, and he even dared to hum a tune. He continued to walk without a care to a broken house on the corner of the street.

If any of the residents of the area were awake to witness such things, they would surely be shocked to see the cloaked man not only steal all the lights, but approach the Black house. The Black house was a thing of children's tales. Mainly of the residents liked to act as though it did not exist in their quiet neighborhood. Its overgrown weeds and towering bushes were enough to make kids stay away, and its large hole in the shabby roof and crumbling foundation made the adults turn their noses.

So it was a wonder as to why this wizard, who was famous in his own right, would stroll into such a place.

Dumbledore went through the weeds as though they did not stain the ends of his robes. He did not seem to be bothered that the steps were half-caved in as he walked over them. The groaned against his weight but they did not give way as most would have thought. He knocked three times onto the rotten door, all the while continuing to hum that strange tune.

If he was surprised that the door seemed to open without any help, he did not show it. He merely let himself in when the door was wide enough and went onward with his venture.

The entry way was dark and smelled like musty boots and old wood. In a house so old, one would not be surprised by such things, as they were to be expected. However, another smell slowly overpowered all others: a hint of peppermint with ginger spice. It quickly cut its way through the older scents and beckoned the headmaster to find its origin.

The old wizard reached into his pocket and with one click of his magical lighter-like object, brightened the place in the literal sense. The entrance was as old-looking as it smelled, with spider webs abundant on the walls. A large once-grand staircase led to further rooms, though it was ridden with holes. Even Dumbledore did not think of traveling up those.

He turned towards the living quarters and headed in. It was almost as though the rest of the house did not exist. The walls were clearly new with dark purple wallpaper plastered on them. A brown leather couch adorned the middle of the room, although it was hard to see since it was covered in worn books looking as old as the house itself. The only space to sit on the thing was a cramped corner with ink stains dotting it. Some reflected the candlelight, showing how fresh they were.

On the floor near the couch was an impressive stack of newspapers, both magical and Muggle. Some seemed to be torn into pieces while others were left neatly folded. Clippings from each of them had been taken and spread across the wall.

The floor was covered in a bright red rug over its hardwood flooring, which was also very new-looking. A foot or two beyond the end of the rug was a fireplace, its hearth full of ashes from the past winter, and maybe the one before it as well. The fresh wood piled on the side gave the room a healthy scent, as well as making it look rather homey to whatever guest had come to visit.

If any difference between the living area and the rest of the house shocked the old man, it did not show at all. In fact, Dumbledore's humming had increased and a playful smile grew on his lips.

The scent of peppermint grew when footsteps drew closer to the living area. The master of the house entered to find the headmaster standing rather whimsically on the edge of his quarters. The room he had left (one would presume it was the kitchen area) was too dark to make out.

The master of the house was carrying a tray with two cups of steaming tea and curious looking sweets, which changed color depending upon which angle you were standing. He smiled at the Headmaster.

"It's been over a year, Albus," he said in a silky voice. He tilted his head to get dark locks away from his vision, nearly puffing at one strand that seemed determined to block his view.

"That it has," Albus Dumbledore said, clasping his hands once more. He had stopped humming finally as he eyed the tray. "I see my visit was not a surprise."

The man smiled, causing gentle wrinkles to form on his young looking face. "Not at all. You know nothing surprises me anymore."

"Ah," Albus answered. He pulled out his wand and quickly conjured a modest chair for himself. "I wonder if you have guessed why I have come here tonight."

The man watched the headmaster take his new seat, and followed suit. He quite easily squeezed himself between the couch arm and the stack of books. He wiggled a bit, probably smearing the ink stains into his pants, to make one book move that was pinching his hip when he sat. He placed the tray onto the table between them.

"I must admit, that I haven't a clue as to what you will ask of me." He spoke honestly, taking a cup from the tray for himself along with a sweet. "However, I can imagine it will not bode well for my health."

"One can only imagine," chuckled the headmaster. He continued to smile as he took one cup for himself. He carefully sipped the warm liquid before closing his eyes, seeming to savor the flavor. "No one makes peppermint and ginger tea like you."

"Flattery," said the man, waving a hand at the comment, though he looked away as though he were embarrassed. "A gentle means to start a hard conversation."

"Or merely a nice way to continue peace," Dumbledore said, sipping his tea again, his eyes twinkling with delight. He helped himself to a few of the color-changing sweets. "How do you like your house? You must forgive me, for I was in a little bit of a rush to find you something."

"Don't think a moment on it." The man waved his hand once more to ward off any negative thoughts. "This place is far too big for just me. It's more than enough."

"I'm glad to hear that," Dumbledore spoke happily. "Though, I must admit that I did not think you would stay if I did not continue to visit."

"You gave me far enough to keep my mind busy," he said gesturing to all the books on the couch. "A new book every week, Albus? Really. It's too much."

Dumbledore's lips curved into a smile. "You've always been up to any challenge I've given you so far. I'm sure you'll do well on any I could hand you in the future."

The man sighed, taking his own generous sip of tea. "In all honesty, and games aside, what do you ask of me?"

"Always trying to get to a point before the true point is made," the headmaster said, as though to he did not hear the first part of that man's comment. "You know your questions must come first."

The man nodded, placing his cup back down on the tray. He offered the headmaster more tea, which he nodded for, before asking, "Is it true, Albus?"

Albus' eyes became graver as did his once playful voice. "I'm afraid so."

The man turned his eyes away in deep thought. His brows pinched together for a few seconds as though in pain before glancing back up at the headmaster. "Is the boy in any danger? Are the wards holding as they should? Is he-"

Albus held up a hand to pause any more questions. Once the man had ceased, Albus spoke gently. "We are all in danger. You know this as well as anyone."

The man gave a fierce nod of the head, refilling his tea and sipping it as though it were a much needed vice. When he seemed to be through thinking over the headmaster's words, as well as popping a few candies in his mouth, Albus began again.

"I know his safety is of great importance to you, all things considering," Albus said, now hitting his stride in the conversation. "He will need a great amount of guidance in order to survive this year. A figure that is there constantly to give hope. Alas, I fear that he is struggling with the pain of a great loss – something I myself have trouble with at the best of times."

The man continued to drink his tea, staring into nothingness now. It did not seem to surprise him that the headmaster had granted him an inside glance, that Albus trusted him enough to let him see a possible weakness. He did not even look back at the headmaster. If one did not know him as the headmaster did, one would think he was not absorbing all the words into his being. But Albus knew better than just anyone.

"You see," Albus started, pulling the man from his thoughts. "Not only will he be in great need of some help, but I will as well."

At this, the man looked up and connected eyes with the headmaster, repeating his words, "You will as well?"

"Yes," he nodded, the twinkle coming back to his eyes. "My groundskeeper and good friend Hagrid will be on his way to reach out to the giants. I'm afraid his journey will be quite long - almost half the year if I have calculated correctly - and I daresay that I will be short a teacher for Care of Magical Creatures, during that time."

The man sat up straighter in his position on the cramped sofa. "Is it true the Ministry will replace such missing teachers as they see fit?"

Albus seemed to brighten even more at this, glad to see the man had kept up with the news. He spoke easily, "It is true. It seems Fudge no longer deems my judgment up to his standards."

"Rubbish!" the man spat, attempting to take another sip of his tea and only to find it empty. He still held the cup in his hands though, not ready to give up the comfortable weight. "Men of great power are quaking at the thought of using it for good. What's the point of our Aurors if they are not going to protect us?"

"Now, now," Albus chuckled and waved a hand to levitate the tray to the kitchen for his host. He watched as the man hastily gave up his cup to the tray as it floated into the dark kitchen area. "I must confess that I too am disappointed in the Ministry's choice. However, that still leaves me with the choice between what they want and what Hogwarts needs."

The man shrugged. "And what it needs is clearly your decision."

A second after he spoke it, the man knew it was the incorrect thing to say. He visibly winced at his statement, clearly afraid it would be taken the wrong way by the man he admired.

However, he had nothing to fear. Albus seemed to think this over for a few moments before rephrasing the statement. "What it needs is good decisions by me, not any decision I could make."

"Yes, of course," the man answered, nodding agreement. He folded his hands together and began to twiddle his thumbs in a way that suggested he was not conscious of this habit. He seemed to think for a few moments, before snapping back to attention when Albus began speaking again.

"I would of course, always look to others for their opinions on whatever matters occur," he said with a gentle voice and slightly raised eyebrows. "And of course, I need others' help in making these decisions come true."

"Albus." The man shrugged for the second time and with a heavy sigh he said, "Please, no more tricks. No more games. Just ask me."

Even though Dumbledore had seen the end to his little game, he still smiled. It seemed as though he would have to ask outright, something that he did not do very often.

"Would you like to take the place of one of the school's teachers, while they are away?"

"Yes, of course!" The man said, sighing in relief. He recalled part of their earlier conversation and said airily, "Care of Magical Creatures was always an easy subject."

"Oh, my dear man, I do not mean Hagrid as the one you are to replace for the moment," Albus said with a growing smile.

The man's eyes grew slightly wider as he realized he had been tricked. However, he could not find it in him to be in the least bit surprised since Albus always had a way of doing this to him. He had the sudden urge to lash out with a 'What then?', but refrained from doing so as the headmaster spoke again.

"I would like you to teach a very different subject. One you do not like to do, so if you could forgive my slight trickery," Albus said, placing his folded hands in his lap. His smile still held despite his host's lack of one. "I think you would be rather skilled at teaching Transfiguration while Minerva is away on Order business."

The man covered his eyes with his hand and let out a pained sigh. The old man had gotten him again.

AU I would like to thank my Beta, whom has corrected my horrible grammar and spelling. She's wonderful!


	2. Slip of the Tongue

**Summary:** AUish. The beginning of Harry's fifth year another teacher, besides the horrible Umbridge, comes to Hogwarts. However, this teacher seems to have more to him than just another Teacher. That and his wand is identical to Voldemort's. Canon Pairing(s)

**What you need to know:** Of course since I am taking a wild guess, most of you have read book five. Being the kind of person who usually hates going over things already known, I have moved past Harry's hearing with the Ministry. Though all the way up until he meets the new teacher, Harry will of course have had the same experiences as in the books.

Oh, and remember how I said I was RUBBISH at coming up with names? Yeah... you'll see what I mean. And try not to laugh at me.

**The Deceptive Waltz**

_A Story by Kristin Bender_

**Chapter Two**

**Slip of the Tongue**

Harry stared up at the staff table as most of the other students were now doing. Almost everyone seemed to notice that a very important teacher was missing among the group. However, only Harry, Ron, and Hermione noticed another teacher missing as well. Though how anyone else could miss someone as big as Hagrid was beyond them.

"Where do you think they are?" Harry questioned, still looking at the empty seats.

"Don't know," Ron whispered to him and added with a hopeful voice, "Maybe Hagrid's just late?"

"I bet they're out doing work for the Order," Hermione said in an even more hushed voice. She spoke so low that they had to lean towards her to hear, and even then Harry wasn't sure he caught it all. "You know, against You-Know-Who."

"I think we know, if it's Order work, who they're working against Hermione," Harry snapped, a little rougher than he meant to. He quickly apologized when she turned a bit pink. "I didn't mean it like that..."

"It's ok," she said hurriedly, though her cheeks were still tinted. She stared hard up at the staff table as she spotted some movement among them.

A man who, it was revealed as he stood up to let him by, was the same height as Snape, moved to the spot McGonagall would usually sit at during the feast. He nodded his head towards the other teachers as well before seating himself. It seemed as though no one had expected to see anyone other than McGonagall there, because they all wore the same surprised expression.

Everyone but Snape and Dumbledore, that was.

Harry stared at the newcomer as well as most of the other students. The mysterious teacher had a dark blue formal cloak on, which made his pale eyes stand out even at a distance. His dark hair only fell to just below eye level and was properly trimmed elsewhere, making it seem as though he wanted to hide his face. This was strange since he was a handsome man, but not overly so, from what Harry could see.

"Do you recognize him, Harry?" Ron asked above the chatter of the hall. It seems it was buzzed about three new teachers at the table.

"No," he answered, while not looking away from the new man. There was something in his movements that seemed familiar to Harry, but that was about the extent of it. He continued in a slightly less confident voice, "Well, I don't think I've ever seen him before..."

"Do you suppose he works for the Ministry?" Hermione added. "Though, he does look a bit nervous up there."

"Think so?" Ron asked, narrowing his eyes as though to see the man better.

Harry did the same. It seemed Hermione was correct though, as usual. The man was moving as though he could not find a comfortable spot in his chair. He also seemed to stutter through his conversations with the surrounding teachers, who were probably asking him all the questions the students currently had on their minds.

Just as the hall seemed to die down a bit, the doors opened to allow the first years into the room. If there was a person left unsurprised by what was going on, they were quickly kicked in the rear.

Madam Hooch, her hair as spiky as ever, walked briskly up to the front of the hall with a group of trembling first years. They all stumbled and tripped, trying to keep up with her pace. They all nearly collided with her when she suddenly spun on her heels to face them.

"Alright first years," she said as though she had better things to do. "When I call out your name, you will be Sorted into your houses. Is that clear?"

The buzz in the hall recommenced tenfold. McGonagall was always the one who led the first years to be Sorted. She had done so as long as she had been teaching at Hogwarts, which was saying something. This was the first time the trio had passed nervous glances to each other since arriving at the school.

Things were definitely strange.

Madam Hooch plucked the hat off as soon as the first year had been sorted and before they even got two feet away, called for another one. It continued until all the first years were sorted, though they each did receive a good amount of cheers for their sort between Madam Hooch's calls.

Harry looked across the whole staff table and noticed another person at the very end. Between McGonagall and Hagrid missing, with two new teachers in their spots, she had been overlooked. Though, Harry can't see how he would have overlooked such a woman before. The toad-faced woman in brightly pink attire sat looking perfectly girly in her chair with her fat chin held high and her pinkie finger extended.

Harry _knew_ he had seen this new arrival before.

"She was at my hearing," Harry said, more to himself than to his friends.

"What?" Ron asked, glancing back up at the table. He had been sharing a whispered conversation with Ginny.

"That woman, at the end," Harry said, almost pointing to her. "She was at my hearing in the Ministry. Umbridge."

"So, it is true," Hermione whispered. When Ron and Harry looked at her weirdly, she continued. "The Ministry _is_ trying to control Hogwarts."

"How do you know that?" Ron questioned, feeling a bit out of the loop. Ruefully, Harry felt better knowing Ron was just as lost as he was. For once he knew what it was like to not know what was going on.

"Honestly Ron, don't you read?" Hermione let out a small sigh. "The Daily Prophet has been talking of all sorts of 'changes' during the last month. Mainly to do with how the school is run."

"Do you think Fudge really has gone that mental?" Ron glanced at Hermione.

"I'm taking a guess on it, but I'd have to say yes," Hermione said, looking over at Harry. "What do you think?"

"I don't know what to think right now," Harry answered. "I just know whatever they plan on doing, can't be very good."

"Really," Ron said in agreement.

At that moment, Dumbledore stood and the hall fell instantly silent. The faces of all the students were looking at him, all awaiting answers to the questions. As though he were not aware of how every pair of eyes watched him for any slip or piece of information, he strolled to the center of the platform and began to speak.

"Welcome, welcome," he greeted with his arms spread wide and a smile on his face. "There are many questions unanswered and many new faces here at our dear school. However, this is not the time for speech-making. Tuck in!"

As soon as he finished all the plates filled with food. Waves of laughter began from the headmaster's words and many nervous faces had relaxed. Surely if something important had happened to the Professors, Dumbledore would have said something.

Harry gave a mental nod to himself. Yes. Dumbledore would have said something if it was important.

They all began the feasting, which included Ron stuffing his face and trying to make decent conversation while doing so. Hermione looked plainly disgusted as food particles came out of his mouth while trying to ask her what classes she was taking. Or at least, that's what Harry assumed he was asking since he was currently chewing two plates full of pumpkin pasties.

When the feast had ended and the mood was light once more, Dumbledore stood at the front of the hall. He waved a hand for silence, though it was already down to a mutter after he stood. He smiled warmly down at the students, passing glances over their faces.

"Now that we have feasted and our stomachs are more agreeable, I would like to make a few start-of-term notices. First years ought to know that, as suggested by its name, the Forbidden Forest is just that. Forbidden. All older students should also know this by now," he added, letting those words ring out for a bit longer.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione all passed smirks to each other over this.

Dumbledore's smile continued as he spoke again with routinely grace, "Our caretaker Mr. Filch has asked me to remind all of you to not use magic in the corridors between classes as well as many other banned magical objects. You may see the full list on Mr. Filch's office door."

The Weasley twins shared a bit of chuckle at that. Dumbledore's eyes seemed to spot them and they grew silent once more.

"You may have noticed some slight staff changes this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubby-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. And last, but surely not the least, we would like to welcome Professor Fiennes, who will be teaching Transfiguration."

The applause for them was polite for the most part, but a few girls at the Ravenclaw table seemed to think a whistle was in order. Harry could only imagine it being for Professor Fiennes, who seemed to shrink in his chair at the attention.

Dumbledore was about to speak once more when a quiet 'hem hem' echoed through the hall. Everyone fell silent as Professor Umbridge stood up with a dastardly yet somehow girlish smile.

Later that night Harry had to grit his teeth, since he was seething so badly. That Umbridge woman had no right to even speak above Dumbledore like that! Even though Harry was considerably angry with the older man for what had happened during the summer, to see him insulted like that tore at every belief Harry held dear.

He kicked the nearby wall, his toe giving a throbbing warning that he might have done some real damage, as he walked down the corridor. Hermione and Ron passed worried looks.

"Harry," Hermione began, looking over her shoulder quickly. "I know you're upset-"

"Upset! Upset?" Harry asked, incredibly. "Hermione, I am past 'upset' right now!"

"We know mate," Ron said, trying to calm the waters. "That woman gets to everyone. Did you see how everyone grew tense when she started talking?"

Harry looked up. No, he hadn't seen that. He only knew what he had felt when she began to speak in front of the whole hall. He didn't think to glance around to see if others felt the same as he did.

Now he felt like a right git.

"Professor!" Hermione called, waving down the new Professor. He turned with an expression that was almost like a deer caught in headlights. He appeared to wonder if she was really calling to him, when she ran up to him. Ron and Harry exchanged looks but followed her lead.

"Professor Fiennes," Hermione said when she caught up to him. "Do you happen to know where Professor McGonagall and Hag- I mean, Professor Hagrid - are?"

He gave her a perplexed expression. "I haven't a clue," he said with a voice that seemed to be silky in quality. Harry absentmindedly wondered if Fiennes was part Veela. "You would have to speak to Alb- Professor Dumbledore if you want to inquire, but he doesn't seem to want to answer."

"One more question if I may sir," Hermione asked.

"Of course, Miss...?" Professor Fiennes seemed to have grasped hold of his demeanour, as though he just realised he was their Professor.

"Hermione Granger, sir," Hermione introduced with a smile. She turned slightly. "And this is Ron Weasley and Harry Potter."

"Yes, very well Miss. Granger." Fiennes said, clasping his hands together. "And what is your question?"

"Have you met Professor Umbridge before today?" She asked in a curious voice. "She doesn't seem to know anyone besides Professor Dumbledore. I always thought teachers met before the start of the year, that's all."

"I can't say I have," Fiennes answered, rubbing his chin in thought. "In fact, I haven't met any of the teachers before, besides Severus. It seems we're as new to each other as any new student would be, I'm afraid."

"Really?" Hermione seemed to have absorbed some information during this conversation that had escaped Ron and Harry. She gave him a small smile and said, "Thank you for your time sir."

She grabbed Ron and Harry by their arms and dragged them away from the bemused-looking Professor. Once at a safe distance she turned to them.

"Did you guys hear what he said?" Hermione said with a smile.

Ron and Harry passed a look again, and Ron said, "Yeah, he said to talk to Dumbledore. Loads that'll help us-"

"No, no!" Hermione said, waving her hand. "Don't you two listen? Honestly!"

Yet again, the boys were lost and Hermione sighed.

"He called Dumbledore by his first name, before correcting himself! Not only that but he had only met Snape before today," she said, glancing between them to wait for them to catch on. When they didn't, she explained, "That means he's friendlier with Dumbledore! He most likely is another member of the Order..."

Now that they had figured out Hermione's excitement, Harry couldn't imagine why this made her so happy. It still proved that Professor McGonagall was missing, which sat heavily in his stomach like a stone. Not only that, but Hagrid was also gone. Any way Harry looked at it, this was something to be dreading, not anticipated with excitement.

"But that still doesn't help that we're missing two teachers," Harry stated.

"Yes, but don't you see?" Hermione said, bringing her voice to a whisper as a group of second years passed by. "It means Dumbledore saw this coming, which means they are most likely all right. If he waited any longer than a day, the Ministry would have put one of their own into the missing teachers' spots."

"So, you're saying this is all planned out?" Ron questioned, still not catching on.

"Of course!" Hermione said, smiling and proud of her skills of deduction. Suddenly, her face fell. "Oh no!"

"What?" Ron asked, frightened of her sudden fall of excitement.

"We're supposed to lead the first years to the dorm as Prefects!" Hermione cried, racing back to the hall in dismay. Ron shot a look of 'sorry mate' at Harry before dashing off behind Hermione.

Harry glanced around the hall, wondering if anyone had caught their conversation. He then wandered towards the portrait of the Fat Lady, where the common room and his bed lay waiting.


	3. Professor RT Fiennes

**

* * *

**AUish. The beginning of Harry's fifth year another teacher, besides the horrible Umbridge, comes to Hogwarts. However, this teacher seems to have more to him than just another Teacher. That and his wand is identical to Voldemort's. Canon Pairing(s) 

**What you need to know:** We're going to have to skip a bit. As I said before, I don't like to go over things we already know. From here on out, it's going to be a bit closer to the new professor's Appearance and anything else that has changed.

**The Deceptive Waltz**

**by Kristin Bender**

**Chapter Four**

**Professor R.T. Fiennes**

Harry couldn't find a way to sit still in his chair as Transfiguration was about to start. Of all the classes he had to take, this was one he was most nervous about. Not because he was rubbish at it, but because of who the teacher was. For years now, he had been taught by Professor McGonagall. He wasn't sure how another person could teach it the way she did.

That and he was hoping the new Professor would release the whereabouts of McGonagall.

Professor Fiennes came in, with his robes billowing in his wake. He turned on his heel when he reached the front of the class and clasped his hands together soundly.

"Welcome, welcome," he said in his silky voice, that suggested rehearsal. "As you know by now, I am your replacement teacher, Professor R. T. Fiennes."

Ron mouthed his question of 'replacement' to Harry. Harry only shrugged, not knowing what to think of it as well.

"I'm sure you will find me adequate to follow in your former lessons and further your learning," he said, constantly moving as he did. He would walk one way, and quickly turn to wave his hand about to go with the words, strolling off in another direction, as though he couldn't decide where he wanted to go.

"I have been able to glance over your records of what your Professor has taught you all so far. It seems as though all you need this year are your skills for the N.E.W.T.s at the end of the year. Which is to say, I must push you all harder this year than you have ever been pushed before," he said, pausing in his speech to let a few groans pass through the class. "Naturally, you will all be glad to know that we are going to be starting more advanced forms of transfiguration. I think you will find these lessons very interesting."

As the Professor made his speech about the class, Harry felt his eyes narrow without thinking about it. He was almost certain that he had seen those exact movements before. Being in Quidditch for so long, he learned to track someone's movements to guess their next play. However, he could not seem to understand the Professor's need to for much dramatics. Nor could he, for the life of him, pin point where he had seen those movements before.

Fiennes waved his hand about as it quickly morphed, to the shock of the class. His hand was now slender and snakelike, with scales covering it completely. It looked almost slimy from a distance when it gleamed in the sunlight. He smiled at their faces.

"The years of simple transfiguration spells have passed," he said evenly as he waved his hand once more, returning it back to normal. Most of the students looked awed. "As many of you have guessed, these are usually lessons you would learn in your sixth year. However..."

Everyone had turned their attention to him. Even Malfoy seemed to be keen to pay attention to this new Professor. Harry could see why. The professor was moving as though he was nervous, anyone could see that. Though, he was also giving off a sense of power. Almost like Dumbledore. You knew he was powerful just by looking at him. No need for demonstration.

"Dark times lay ahead. Even if you do not believe Voldemort-" many people shuttered or gasped. Harry was impressed. "has returned. The important thing is, many dark wizards DO believe he has. This makes these lessons all the more important."

Harry felt a stab of anger. Of course Voldemort had returned! Didn't Dumbledore announce it to the whole school already and the world? As though he could read Harry's thoughts, Fiennes turned to face Harry. Their eyes met for the briefest of moments, before he moved on. During their meeting of the eyes, Harry felt a quick needle like prick on his forehead. He refused to rub it. All he needed was for his friends to notice before they started treating him like a glass object again.

"Not everyone would like to believe such horrible things. No one wants them to be true," he stated quietly. He than said a bit louder, "But, no matter what one thinks of the world, they must be prepared for whatever is out there. Voldemort, or not."

The air sat heavily in the room as everyone passed glances to each other. Harry looked around the room and saw many of the students looked pale or sick. It was as though they had finally been hit with a realization of what has happened. Harry couldn't help but feel a bit of pride. He felt it was about damn time they started to see the truth about what had happened.

It was quickly followed by guilt at the loss of Cedric.

An unsteady hand came up into the air.

"Yes?" Professor Fiennes asked the student.

Harry turned around to find Dean with is hand slowly returning back into his lap.

"Sir... do you really believe that?" Dean questioned. "That, You-Know-Who is really out there?"

Fiennes seemed to smile at him. He then turned slightly to look out the window as though he thought the answer lay outside. After a few seconds of staring out, even the students began to wonder if the answer was really out there. Almost as though Voldemort would suddenly spring up at the window to attack them all. But, just as quickly as those thoughts entered, they vanished when he turned to face the class once more.

"I believe great evil lays out there. Whoever you believe at this stage is of no value to this class," He spoke evenly. He flicked his hand again and the curtains closed. The room was not dark though, as torches on the wall lit. "What is important to remember, no matter what you believe, is never be unprepared."

He tapped his fingers against his desk. All eyes seemed glued to him.

"Let's say, for example, that you believed what is said about Voldemort being out there," Fiennes spoke, though looked a bit nervous when he noticed all the attention. Or perhaps it was saying the name. "You learn all these spells and defenses. You learn to face down some of the strongest spells and hexes with ease. And let's say, you're wrong in the end. He's not out there. What have you truly lost? Nothing. You gained knowledge beyond imagination due to your belief."

Harry looked over the class once more, wondering what effect the Professor was having on them. It seemed everyone was entranced by him. Harry could almost see the wheels in everyone's head turning at this information. He had to admit, even though the Professor did not act very impressive, he certainly had a way with words.

"Alright, now let's say you don't believe he's out there," Fiennes suggested, waving his arms about again. "So, what do you do? Belittle those that do believe and not train. You don't gain anything. You don't learn to prepare yourselves. You not nearly as good in hexes and jinxs that one whom believes, is. And let's say, you're right. He's not out there. What have you gained? Nothing, but bragging rights. And let's now say, you're wrong..."

Fiennes' eyes darkened. He walked through the row between Harry and Malfoy.

"Being wrong about something such as that is a mistake no one can afford," Fiennes said. "What if he or his Death Eater's attacked you? Your family? How would you defend yourself? You wouldn't.. you never believed so you never trained. You never _gained_ anything."

He stopped at the end of the row and turned around. Everyone had turned in their seats to follow him, as though he would disappear if they did not keep eye contact. He glanced around as though to make sure all eyes and ears were in his direction before continuing once more.

"We start our first lesson on self-transfiguration today," Fiennes announced with a smile, as though he had not just spoken of death. "I hope you all have a favorite mammal."

* * *

_The Deceptive Waltz;_ _Professor R.T. Fiennes_

* * *

Harry shook his hand painfully. It felt as though he slammed his fist into the whomping willow a few times and it had hit back. Every bone in his hand surged with pain and his knuckled cracked when he flexed his fingers. He could see the veins in his hand by now and his skin was a light brown color with spotted fur on it.

"This is a... painful lesson," Ron said, shaking his own hand which was a strange sort of green color.

"Tell me about it," Harry said, rubbing his wrist. "I think I have fractured every bone in my hand by now."

They glanced over at Hermione who was frowning at her hand, which looked like a perfect Otter paw.

"Figures she'd get it right," Ron said, though it held no spite to it.

"I didn't," Hermione said, frowning even more. "I'm missing a patch just above the knuckle. Not only that, but I didn't do it wandless like the Professor."

Ron and Harry both squinted at her transfigured hand, but neither could see what she was talking about. She continued to glare at the knuckle, trying the spell a few more times. Though, she tried to not say the spell and do it mentally this time. Her hand shook a bit and the hair grew longer, but that was it. She huffed in frustration.

"Blimey!" Ron stated quietly to Harry. "How can she keep doing that? I feel like my hand is coming off!"

"I know," Harry said, still rubbing his sore hand. "It's a lot harder than it looks."

"What I want to know is how can the Professor do this without a wand," Ron asked, looking sorely.

"Having trouble?" Professor Fiennes asked, as he glanced over their table.

"No sir," Ron and Harry said together.

Fiennes gave a shrug before he turned to another table, with Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle sitting together. Malfoy had turned most of his hand, with patches of fur missing from it. Apparently, he was going for a wolf or something like that from the way it bent. His fingers were smaller, into the shape of a paw-like thing though it was so deformed you couldn't quite make out if it was on purpose or accident.

"Wonderful! Five points to Slytherin by Mister…?" Fiennes appraised.

"Malfoy sir, Draco Malfoy." He answered with a smug grin.

"Mr. Malfoy," Fiennes continued with a small smile. "Keep up the good work."

"What rubbish." Ron turned bitterly to Harry and said, "Hermione's far better."

Harry could see from the corner of his eye, that Hermione did hear Ron's comment. Her cheeks tinted ever so slightly.

"It's not that good," she said modestly looking at her transfigured hand.

"Bloody better than that slimy git Malfoy could ever do," Harry said in defense, wanting something to be angry at with his friends about. Ron certainly brightened up at the comment.

"Brilliant," Ron said with a nod.

Everyone turned their attention to the front when Fiennes clapped his hands. He was staring down at Hermione with a smile.

"One of the best examples of a well-done spell, Miss. Granger. Ten points to Gryffindor" he said turning away. He stopped a few steps away, looked over his shoulder and said, "And detention tonight Mr. Potter for your colorful language."

When Fiennes was far enough away that they were sure he wouldn't hear, Ron leaned over to Harry.

"Bad luck mate," he said, trying to give Harry a sympathetic look.

"Detention in the first week?" Hermione asked, looking appalled.

Harry glared at the back of the Professor's head. "Do you guys still think he's part of the Order?"

Hermione looked around to make sure no one was listening, while Ron shrugged his shoulders. Ron was about to open his mouth to say something when Hermione leaned in and signaled for him to hush.

"We can't talk about those things here," she hissed. "Wait until after class."

Harry resisted the urge to snort and turned to look at his hand which was starting to lose the little bit of fur on it. He twirled his wand once more and winced as his bones throbbed.


	4. Office on the Third Floor

**Summary:** AUish. The beginning of Harry's fifth year another teacher, besides the horrible Umbridge, comes to Hogwarts. However, this teacher seems to have more to him than just another Teacher. That and his wand is identical to Voldemort's. Canon Pairing(s)

**What you Need to Know : **Remember. Harry hasn't had detention with Umbridge... yet.

**The Deceptive Waltz**

_A Story by Kristin Bender_

**Chapter Four**

**Office on the Third Floor**

Harry threw down his quill, splattering ink across his parchment paper. He rubbed his hand against his forehead, but this time it was not from his scar. He felt as though if he stared at the paper any longer, his eyes might implode. He glanced over at Ron, and saw that he was experiencing the same thing. It made Harry feel a little better knowing he wasn't suffering alone.

When Ron noticed Harry was no longer writing his essay on the many uses of powered root mixed with dragon's blood, he put his own quill down.

"Can you believe five essays all in the first week?" Ron groaned, as though Harry had not heard that all day.

"From Snape I can," Harry replied bitterly, looking over his work. In his anger he smeared a few lines of report, but he couldn't find it in him to care about it. It's not like the Potion's Master would give him a decent grade anyways.

"That greasy git," Ron muttered under his breath, sinking lower in his arm as he looked over his own report. It looked a lot shorter than Harry's to say the least. In fact, Harry was sure Ron had been staring out into space for the last ten minutes.

Harry smiled at the distressed look on his friend's face. Ron was rather good at work when he really buckled down to it and kept paying attention. However, the red-head just seemed to be bored out of his mind with having to do all the essays lately. Not only that but Hermione refused to help Ron past the first paragraph after Ron had written word-for-word from her on his report to start with. She had stormed out, saying she was heading to the library over an hour ago.

Harry sighed and grabbed his quill. During his tantrum, the point had bent and was too damaged to continue using. Harry stood and left upstairs to find his spare.

"Hurry back," Ron called after him. "I think we'll need to put our minds together for this homework."

Harry rolled his eyes, knowing Ron just wanted to copy his. He entered the bedroom and started going through his trunk. He pulled out his broom kit and laid it aside. He did not have time to unpack for the last week and had been taking out only what he needed in that day. The Professor's kept them busy enough that even on their free day, most of the students were too busy with their noses in the books to enjoy the weather.

Harry paused on the wrapped gift from Sirius. He rubbed the outside of the cloth with his forefingers. He then moved it aside to dig in his trunk.

After shifting through a few old bits of junk, such as the old socks he had, and some shirts that were damaged by spilled ink, he found his spare. He pulled it out and tried to straighten the feather out. It looked worse for the wear, but the point was still sharp. He slipped it behind his ear while gathering his items to place back in the trunk. Once everything was safely put back, went back to the common room.

Ron was already peaking over at his essay and scribbling little notes down onto his parchment. When he noticed Harry had returned, he gave a sheepish grin.

"You're loads further than me," Ron complimented. "Maybe you could share what you wrote with me?"

"If Hermione was here, she'd throw a book at you," Harry said, smiling. Ron gave a laugh.

"Good thing she isn't," Ron said, still smiling. Then, he seemed to give an 'oh' expression as he glanced at the table. He lifted up a small piece of parchment. "This came for you."

Harry walked over and took it from Ron's hand. The neat-little handwriting read:

_**Dear Mr. Potter,**_

_**You are to serve your detention at 7 o'clock tonight for one hour. My office is on the third floor. I have been told you will know where to find me.**_

_**Professor R.T. Fiennes**_

Harry grimaced. He had almost forgotten about his detention in sight of all of his homework. He sighed and sat down in his chair.

"What's it say?" Ron questioned, trying to see the note. Apparently he had been too busy trying to copy some of Harry's homework to read it.

Harry quickly explained the note.

"I'd almost forgotten about that," Ron admitted. "What do you think he means by 'you will know where to find me'? There are loads of rooms on the third floor."

"Don't know," Harry shrugged. "I guess I'll find out at seven."

* * *

_Office on the Third Floor_

* * *

Harry waited until the staircase moved to the proper spot before going onto the third floor. He looked around and some of the torches weren't lit. Harry frowned, and decided to head where the lights were on to look for the office he was supposed to know. He walked down the stone hall, glancing at the doors he knew were empty classrooms or other such things, looking for a sign of some sort. When he had reached the end and no direct way to know which room was Fiennes' office, he started opening the doors and taking a peek inside.

One was an empty classroom. Another was a storage room full of broken jars. The next one was another empty classroom. He continued to open the doors until he reached the staircase again. He let out a frustrated sigh.

"How am I supposed to take detention in a place I can't find," mumbled Harry. He looked down the dark hallway and suddenly something clicked.

Harry took a few steps down the dark path before pausing. He couldn't help but think that Dumbledore might have lost some sanity if the Professor's office was where he thought it was. He walked down the hallways, past the normal classrooms, into the deserted hallway he had not stepped onto since the end of his first year. He could smell the dust from the unused hallway and it almost made him sneeze.

Harry's jaw dropped an inch when he saw a very plain looking, small scribbled sign saying "R.T. Fiennes, Teacher" on the very door Fluffy had once been behind. Harry must have stood in front of the door for another minute, pondering if this was some sort of joke on him. Surely the Professor would not want to be in a room that a three-headed dog had once called home?

The door swung open and a rather shocked looking Fiennes stood in the doorway. He seemed to recover from his surprise after a moment.

"I was about to come looking for you," he stated. "You're twenty minutes late."

Harry almost swore. Had he really been travelling up and down the hallway for that long, looking for the office? Apparently so by the sour look on Fiennes' face.

"Well, come on in," Fiennes said, moving aside.

"I'm sorry sir," Harry said quickly before stepping in. He wanted to say more, but speech had been taken away from him.

The room was nothing like it had been before. The walls appeared to be plaster instead of stone like the rest of the castle. There was dark purple color wallpaper, and the floors had been buffed to a shine. Harry was almost afraid he would slip on the floor since it looked as though it had been waxed. Thankfully he was able to step on a red, shag rug that covered most of the floor. He glanced at the bookshelves which rivaled Dumbledore's collection in size. At least eight selves completely stacked in neat little files, along with either side of the large room held numerous of books. They lay piled six feet high all around the room.

Harry watched as Fiennes twirled his hand at the torches, which had been dimmed, were now bright. Harry had to squint for a few seconds, being so used to the dark hallway.

"Please, sit," Fiennes said, waving his hand once more to make a wooden chair appear in front of his desk. Fiennes sat behind the oak, looking desk and folded his hands. He waited until Harry had taken a seat before speaking again.

"In this detention I would like you to sort out my books. By author or by title, which ever way catches your fancy," Fiennes spoke with his silky voice. "Line them however you like, just explain your system to me before you leave."

"Do you want me to sort them all out Professor?" Harry questioned with raised eyebrows. There had to be over two hundred books piled across the floor. There was no way Harry could sort through them all.

"If you like to," Fiennes replied in a humor-laced voice. He pulled out a parchment and unrolled it. He then pulled out a quill, dipped it into ink and began writing.

Harry sat in the chair, wondering what else he had to do. He didn't know if he had to get started now or he if Fiennes wanted him to wait until he was doing writing. After a minute of only the quill scratching against the parchment, Harry finally spoke up.

"Sir?" Harry questioned. Fiennes glanced up from his notes. "Do you want me to start?"

"By all means," Fiennes said. "And Remember, sort how you like them."

With that, Fiennes returned to his quill.

Harry sat still for a few seconds, not quite knowing what to do. He didn't feel comfortable knowing the Professor was going to be watching him try to sort out a bunch of books. He slowly rose from the chair and looked around at all the stacks lying on the floor.

He wasn't sure which one he should sort first. They all looked about the same size and amount of books as though the Professor had already begun trying to sort them out. He walked around, trying not to bump into any of them, spilling them on the floor. He came around, closer to the small fireplace hiding by a large mound of books.

Harry visibly winced at the size of the mound of books. It was not like the other piles around the room. This was an unorganized mess of books that seemed to have been dropped, uncaring onto this spot.

Harry bent down and picked up the first book by his foot, causing several others to slide. Harry glanced over at Fiennes, whom seemed to not notice the sound of hardback books hitting the floor.

He looked down at the pile and sighed.

After what seemed like hours, Fiennes finally stopped writing on the parchment, which was reaching seven feet in length, to look at his student. Harry was sitting in front of a pile of books, which he was trying to make a stack out of. The rest of the room was filled with several stacks. One was by the fireplace, another was by the door, and two over by the bookshelf and the rest were left untouched.

Harry turned to look at his professor. He had almost forgotten the man was in the room.

"Potter," Fiennes said, looking at the piles. "How did you decide to arrange them?"

"By subject," Harry said, pulling himself to his feet. "This one is fictional, the one by the door are spells, and the one over by the fireplace are the non-fiction books."

"I see," Fiennes said in amusement. "Why did you choose this method?"

Harry fidgeted under the glaze of his teacher. He didn't know why, but this man made him rather nervous.

"Well, I saw the books on your shelves and they don't seem to be in any alphabetical order, so I decided it wouldn't hurt to try something else," Harry said.

Fiennes gave him a smile. He looked as though he wanted to place his hand on Harry's shoulder, but thought better of it.

"Do you think you learned your lesson?" Fiennes suddenly asked.

Harry looked up at him in confusion before remembering why he was even here. This was supposed to be his punishment for saying those nasty things about Malfoy. Harry didn't feel like he needed to be punished for saying such things. He secretly thought they were true anyways about that git Malfoy. However, he didn't want to look rude to the Professor.

"I think so sir," Harry said slowly. He wondered if this was a trick question.

"Well, that's a good thing," Fiennes said, wringing his hands together. "Did you find anything interesting in my collection?"

"You have a lot of Dark Arts books," Harry spoke without meaning to.

He most cursed when he saw the look on the Professor's face. He knew he had spoken out of line with that one. Even though he knew this would probably mean he would serve another detention, he couldn't help but wonder about it. Ever since he saw a few of the titles, he had been wondering why Fiennes had so many Dark books.

Fiennes seemed to loose his pace for a few seconds, thinking on Harry's words. He let the words filter through his mind and finally responded.

"That doesn't answer my question," Fiennes said evenly.

Without a second thought, Harry answered.

"'_Defense for the Skilled Wizard'_, and '_Walking Through the Unknown'_ looked good."

Fiennes brightened up at Harry's answer as though a great relief was washing over him. He smiled his thin lips down at Harry.

"If you like, you may borrow them," Fiennes said, pulling them from their rightful stacks to hand them to Harry. "Keep them as long as you like."

Harry held the books in disbelief. He did not think the Professor would hand over the books so straightforwardly. Although, Harry had admitted to himself he would be interested in looking through some of the darker books he had seen. Not only that but the Professor owned a single Quidditch book which Harry, among many students, would love to get his hands on.

"Are you sure Professor?" Harry asked, holding the two books in his hands.

"I'm quite sure about this," He said, looking humbly at Harry. "I learned a lot from these books and I would never deny that knowledge to anyone."

"These books, sir?" Harry wondered out loud. He looked at the books with newfound respect.

"Those, as well as others," Fiennes waved his arm to circle the room. "Every book is a treasure and I find myself enthralled each time I pick one up."

Harry was beginning to think the Professor would get along very well with a certain bookworm he knew. Still, he was interested in seeing what lay inside of these books that attracted the Professor so.

"Thank you Professor," Harry said honestly.

"No matter," Fiennes said, waving his hands about again. He glanced at the small clock on his wall. "It seems your detention was up ten minutes ago."

"Oh," Harry said, looking at the time as well. He was sure his friends would be worried about him by now.

"Now Mr. Potter," Fiennes spoke softly. "Remember; respect others in my classroom unless you want another detention."

"I will sir," Harry said, trying to look ashamed. He thought he did a rather good job at it. In truth, he didn't feel bad at all about it. The detention wasn't that much of a punishment, merely boring until he found some interesting titles.

"If you have any further questions for me, please ask now," Fiennes said, turning and walking to his chair.

Harry wanted to ask if Fiennes was part of the Order. However, after Hermione had nearly chewed his ear off for mentioning it in class, he decided against it. There was one question though, that he knew he wouldn't get in trouble for asking.

"Why, this office?" Harry asked, wondering if the Professor had known what had been there four years prior to his arrival.

Fiennes gave a rather comical smirk at Harry's question.

"It seems Dumbledore got a rather good kick out of it. Irony and all," Fiennes said, smiling at a private joke between himself and the headmaster. "Is that all?"

"Yes sir," said Harry. He was confused about the whole thing but decided not to ask why it was ironic that the Professor be in this room.

"Alright then," Fiennes said, still smiling. "Good night, Mr. Potter."

"Good night Professor."

And with that, Harry left for the common room.


	5. The Three Ps

**Summary:** AUish. The beginning of Harry's fifth year another teacher, besides the horrible Umbridge, comes to Hogwarts. However, this teacher seems to have more to him than just another Teacher. That and his wand is identical to Voldemort's. Canon Pairing(s)

**What you Need to Know : **I have sped up time, yet again for this. I am pretty sure you will all be able to follow what happens by the reactions… I hope.

**To The readers:** Oh. My. GOD! Thank you for all the alerts and favs! And for being in the community 'Crap filter', which is for New HP Stories that the owner thinks, are interesting. I, myself, have found a few damn good WIP from that community and I'm honored to be in it! Now, if only I could get more reviews… :D

**The Deceptive Waltz**

_A Story by Kristin Bender_

**Chapter Five**

**The Three 'P's **

As with most of the lessons with Umbridge, the last few weeks were unbearable for many of the students. Especially Harry, whom was sporting a light scarring on the back of his hand due to a detention he had to serve under her rule. He was finding it harder and harder to keep his temper back whenever she entered a room.

It seemed as though the Teachers were also feeling the same effects. Each one of them had stiffened every time they heard that foul woman's name being said. Even Snape seemed to be a bit nastier whenever her name was dared whispered in his dungeons.

However, there was one Teacher blissfully unaware of her evil. That Teacher was Professor Fiennes.

This was not any more pronounced than when the students glanced up at the staff table during meals. The other members of the board would scoot as far away from her as possible, while Fiennes seemed to always take the seat next to her. He would even talk to her!

Harry felt his blood boil when he saw Fiennes speaking with that woman. He felt a deep seeded betrayal had just taken place.

"What's wrong Harry?" Hermione asked, giving up on waking Ron who was almost snoring into his breakfast.

"Looks like those two are rather cozy," Harry spoke with venom, still glaring at the teachers.

Hermione followed his gaze up to the staff table and saw Umbridge set a flirting hand on Fiennes' shoulder. Fiennes seemed to ignore the contact. This only made that sickening girly giggle come from her.

Hermione wrinkled her nose.

"I don't think anyone can get 'cozy' with her," Hermione said.

Harry turned away from them, and glanced down at the book he had. It was the '_Walking through the Unknown'_. Harry had been taking it to meals with him since that seemed to be the only time had could read it in peace. It was about a Wizard whom had traveled to other universes, where the world was completely different than his own. It was a very interesting suspense story that Harry didn't seem to want to put down.

Now, Harry closed the book with a snap, pushing it away from him. He was sickened that the Professor could act so _normal _around that woman. How could anyone not see her for the wicked witch she was?

"Harry," Hermione said, trying to make her friend feel better. "You can't hate him for being civil around her."

Harry frowned. Hermione was still stuck on the idea that Fiennes was part of the Order. However, Harry just couldn't see the shy man whom best friends were books. It didn't seem like he could do anything for the Order, unless they needed knowledge. Which, Harry was certain that Dumbledore beat almost any Wizard in that department.

"Hermione," he said, with exasperation. "There's no way he's part of it."

"I don't see why you're denying all the evidence Harry," Hermione said, looking upset. "It's all there! Dumbledore seems to know him rather well. He uses wandless magic, which is incredibly hard and dangerous to learn. Not only that but he doesn't seem to the type to go with You-Know-Who."

"Not all wizards are divided by those who are death-eaters and those that aren't," Harry said, remembering the words his Godfather had spoken to him not over a month ago. Though, it felt longer than that. "I don't think he's evil, but I also don't think he's with Dumbledore."

Before Hermione could give her point, Ron appeared to surprise them by showing he was awake and listening.

"Hermione's got a point mate," Ron said, stretching and yawning. "I think he might know something at least about, you know what."

Harry felt his anger surge. He felt as though his best friends had ganged up on him against this. He roughly grabbed his book from the table.

"Fine. It seems I'm beat, two to one on this," Harry said through his teeth. He stood up and stormed out of the hall, ignoring the looks he was given by the other students.

"Oh Harry, we didn't mean it like that!" Hermione called after him. Ron also seemed in distress about his best friend leaving like that.

"You don't think he'll calm down by first class, do you?" Ron questioned over at her.

"I hope so," Hermione said with a sad expression on her face. "It seems Harry just gets angrier and angrier every day."

"Can't say I blame him," Ron said, picking up a piece of toast. "I'd be bloody angry too if You-Know-Who was trying to kill me and almost no one believed me."

* * *

_The Three 'P's_

* * *

Harry still was fuming from the morning's arguments when he entered first class. He threw his bag down on the table and sat next to a nervous looking Ron. Harry stared straight foreword and refused to look Ron in the eyes.

"Wands away!" Umbridge said, though it was not necessary by this point. "Open your books and read the next chapter on Defense."

Everyone had also grabbed out their books but Harry chose a different book to pull out of his bag. He flipped open the thick, leather bond book and began reading. It was a defense book, but one that he was sure Umbridge would not like him to be reading.

"What are you doing mate?" Ron whispered when Umbridge turned her back to scribble something on the board.

"Reading something worthwhile," Harry answered, turning to the next page.

"Harry," Hermione started in her reasoning voice. "I'm with you on her being a horrid teacher but do you want another detention?"

"Yeah. I don't like seeing your…" Ron indicated to his hand. "You know."

Harry let out a frustrated sigh.

"Look, I'm at least going to learn in here instead of sitting around just-," Harry was cut off by a very quiet cough.

All three looked up and the whole class stared at them. Umbridge stood in front of Harry, with her hands folded together and a tense smile on her lips.

"And what, _exactly_ is that book?" she asked in a sickeningly sweet voice. "I do believe it is not the one that is assigned to read in this classroom."

"_Defense for the Skilled Wizard_," Harry answered through his teeth. "We _are_ learning defense, aren't we?"

Her laugh echoed through the room and she put a dainty hand to her lips as though to seem shy of her outburst. Before her lips curled into a wide grin and her eyes pierced down at Harry.

"I'd like to correct you just the tiniest," she started, "but that book is not approved by the ministry. I'm afraid I will have to take it away from you and I daresay you earned another detention for disobeying me."

"But Profess-" Hermione started but was cut off by Umbridge.

"Hands rise before speaking Miss. Granger," she said with a fake tut. "Five points from Gryffindor for not following the rules."

Hermione raised her hand and then spoke out.

"If it's not approved by the ministry, then why does it have a stamp of Approval; First Order, on the back?"

The class broke into hushed whispers and Harry heard a small 'got her there' remark from someone behind him. Harry almost smiled, knowing Hermione had gotten Umbridge rather good. He didn't even know that the Ministry stamps books for approval on them until just this moment. Even if he knew that, he never did notice the faded stamp on the peeling back anyways. He was glad Hermione noticed though by Umbridge's reaction. Harry could especially tell she was trying to hide her anger by the red little splotches starting on her face.

"Is that so?" she asked with a high-pitched voice.

She snatched the book from Harry and looked at the back. Her eye bulged at the writing and looked for any tiny detail that might be missing in case this was all just some trick. As though Harry could honestly fake something like that. Her eyes ran back and forth on the seal, looking at the faded gold surrounding the tiny scrawl that held the approval of the Ministry. She seemed at a loss as what to do since it was obviously not a fake stamp. She looked around the room quickly, before her lower lip quivered in anger.

"Well… I…." she finally said in a whispered tone. "I guess it is."

Harry felt a flood of triumph through out his body. It was almost better than winning a game of Quidditch against the Slytherins. He finally felt that this was going to be the first good day he had at Hogwart's so far.

"Then give me back my book, professor," Harry said in an almost hissing voice. He held out his hand and waited for the book to be given. "That way I will finally learn something in this class."

Her lips once again curled into a smile.

"I'm afraid I'll have to give you detention until you learn respect," she said, a sickening glow taking over her body now that she was finally able to get one over on him. "And you can get this book after you have completed it to my satisfaction."

Harry instantly felt a boil of rage begin and was about to start shouting at the horrid woman when he felt someone kick his ankle. He snapped his head to a sheepish Ron, who was giving him a pleading look. Harry sat back in his chair and just glowered at her instead.

"Now, class," Umbridge began. "See how well my discipline works?"

Her eyes contacted with Harry's livid ones.

"Once you learn the root of someone's problems, you can easily solve them in a manner befitting of their manner," She said, never breaking contact with Harry. "I'm sure you will all agree when my rules are seen throughout the school instead of confined to a classroom."

The reactions were immediate. Hands shot into the air, while students began to mumble to each other.

"What do you mean?"

"Is the Ministry taking over?"

"What will happen to our classes?"

"ENOUGH!" Umbridge shouted with her face tinted red from anger. She seemed to grasp herself again, straightening her shirt a bit before addressing the class in a leveled voice. "I will be doing what this school needs. Firm action."

She turned to the board, which Harry had just noticed has something new written onto it.

_The Three 'P's _

_Perfectly __Productive Professors _

"This is what I am talking about," Umbridge said, pointing a thick finger to the board. "The school's standards are failing and I will see to it that all the classrooms are maintained in a way that is safe and Ministry approved. Not only that but this school is lacking by far in disciplinary actions"

"So you're going to fire all the good Professors then," Harry spat out before he could stop himself.

"Hand UP if you wish to ask a question," Umbridge said, stepping closer to Harry. Her body was stiff with anger and her toad-like face was twitching with fury though she still answered his inquiry. "I will merely see to it that all the Professors are teaching you what you ought to be taught."

"Yeah, nothing," Harry fumed. His hand clenched, begging for his wand to be there and be used against this revolting woman.

It seemed Umbridge had sensed something and had pointed her stubby wand straight at his chest with blazing eyes.

"You will NOT disrespect me in my classroom Mr. Potter," she squeaked out with laced anger.

"What are you going to do? Curse me?" Harry asked, glaring at her. "I'm sure you can't do any worse than Voldemort."

At that, a spark flew out of her wand and singed Harry's tie. Harry had scooted back, moving without thinking about it to get away from her spark-shooting wand. When Harry patted out the small spark that had burned into his tie, he looked up at her face which was now bright red and purple. He felt an odd comparison to Uncle Vernon was in order.

"Don't, you EVER say such lies in my classroom again," she said, all false sweetness had left.

Harry and Umbridge held glares for a full minute. Neither one of them moved to do anything else nor did the class speak a single word. It seemed no one wanted to get in the way in case they were cursed. Harry was sure he couldn't even hear anyone breathing either.

"Detention," Umbridge said with a strained voice and had yet to lower her wand. "Until Christmas Mr. Potter."

Harry took in an angry breath, wondering if he could reach his wand and curse her before she could hex him. When her round eyes narrowed, as though knowing his thoughts, he decided against it. She would probably get him first.

When Harry seemed to give in to her punishment, she finally lowered her wand.

"You will spend the rest of the day, in that corner, away from the class," She said, pointing to the far corner. "It's best if the infection is cut out before it spreads to the whole limb."

Harry nearly gave into his urge of diving over the table and choking her. Instead, he let out a sound that was strangely like a growl, before grabbing all of his books and his bag.

"Well, if I'm not learning anything, than I'm leaving," Harry said walking towards the door. He felt a strange sort of uplifting feeling while he walked away from the stunned Umbridge.

'So this is what Hermione felt,' Harry thought to himself, as he walked straight to the door and grabbed the knob. However, it would not turn. He closed his eyes and felt the notion to count to ten.

"Let me out," Harry said through his teeth.

"I'm afraid I can't," Umbridge said, her wand pointed to the door. "You will go to the corner or I will have to recommend you being expelled for this."

Harry felt his heart drop into the pit of his stomach. His grip on the knob increased before he finally let go. He knew there was nothing anyone could do. Harry's actions could not be explained by Dumbledore and he doubted he could talk his way out of trouble again. Not that Harry would take any help from the Headmaster since he was ignored since the summer by him.

He walked over to the corner and dropped his things there. He continued to glare out at her when she smiled.

"Face the wall, Mr. Potter," she said, feeling the power of authority again.

Harry turned around and felt his cheeks warm. He swore to himself that he would somehow get back at the horrid woman.

"Now, let me explain the system of the Three Ps to all of you," Umbridge began, ignoring Harry's growling in the corner.

"This system was made for one true purpose. To weed out the Professors who would teach you dangerous things that would harm young children such at yourselves. By following this simple guideline, your Professors will be able to teach in a manner for fitting of your education and the upcoming O.W.L.s this year.

If the Professors do not teach you in a manner that is not only approved by the Ministry but is declared dangerous to your wellbeing, then they will have to be replaced."

Harry could hear the whispering in the classroom and could almost see his friends' faces as they heard this news. He felt his fists clench and his nails were almost biting into his skin.

"I'm sure you will all see how my system works within the next week as the new rules are given to this undisciplined School."

Umbridge stood with her shoulders straightened in front of the class. She had a smile on her face and her expression was very smug.

"I am being declared the new position of High Inquisitor starting tomorrow."


	6. Inquisitor’s Inquiry

**Summary:** AUish. The beginning of Harry's fifth year another teacher, besides the horrible Umbridge, comes to Hogwarts. However, this teacher seems to have more to him than just another Teacher. That and his wand is identical to Voldemort's. Canon Pairing(s)

**What you Need to Know : **I hate Umbridge so much, I won't even add her name to my spell check dictionary. I am also moving Hagrid's return date back by two months. You'll find out why.

Author Notes: To my reviewers, I know it's been a long time since I have last updated. I'm very sorry. I have been working with a beta who has revised my first two chapters for me. They are now available on fanfiction to read. The other chapters are more complicated to beta and both she and I have been busy. That has caused this very long delay in this chapter. Since it's been so long, I decided to post it without her revising it. I just hope my grammar won't frighten you all off!

**The Deceptive Waltz**

_A Story by Kristin Bender_

**Chapter Six**

**Inquisitor's Inquiry**

"Do you think someone ever cried that much before?" Ron asked, looking at the sobbing Trelawney. She had just had Umbridge come to her classroom for an inspection. Lavender was trying her hardest to calm her down.

"Well," Harry reflected. "Maybe Myrtle has."

Harry tried to sympathize about seeing a teacher break down into tears, but he couldn't quite feel horrible about Trelawney getting a bad review. He was sure of it when Umbridge declared that she would be inspecting the teachers that Trelawney wouldn't do so well. It was an almost given by this point. Harry just counted himself lucky that he was able to hold his tongue around that woman this time. If only because she did not talk directly to him that is.

His hand was still throbbing from last night's detention.

Harry and Ron walked down from the tower trying to discuss which Teacher would become the next person to suffer under Umbridge's scrutiny.

"I wish McGonagall was here," Ron said, staring up at the ceilings in thought. "Can you imagine how she would react; knowing old toad face was going to be sitting in her classroom?"

"That would be brilliant," Harry grinned in return.

Harry could imagine McGonagall during an inspection. The older woman was a hard shell and would not sway to anything. He was sure that McGonagall would be the only true Teacher to stand up to Umbridge without even needing to act any differently. It was one of the many things Harry was discovering he missed about Hogwarts.

"When and if McGonagall ever comes back, we'll find out," Harry said bitterly.

Ron looked at his friend with a raised eyebrow. He knew how Harry felt, but he didn't know what to say to make him feel any better about it. So, he stayed quiet and walked along side him.

The next day at breakfast, Harry snapped the book titled 'Walking through the Unknown' closed. He felt a sense of accomplishment rush through him at this. He had read the whole book very slowly over the past week at meals and before bed. It was so thick that Harry thought it would take him at least three weeks with homework to finish. However, he was slightly disappointed at completing the book. He began to wonder what happened to the timeline the hero skipped to and if the war there had finally ended when he left.

"Are you finally done with that mate?" Ron asked, grabbing some eggs.

"Yeah, just finished," Harry said, sitting back. He didn't feel very hungry at the moment.

"That's good," Ron commented through his breakfast. "I was beginning to think you would do a Hermione on me and hide yourself in a book for the rest of the school year."

"I don't think I have the attention span for that," Harry answered with a bit of a smile.

"Do you think she'll ever leave the library today?" Ron questioned. "I need her help with my potion's essay."

"Is that all I'm good for?" Hermione questioned, dropping a large pile of books onto the table. Harry and Ron jumped at the loud sound.

"No, no of course not," Ron stammered. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Of course not," Hermione said as though it was oblivious. Though, she didn't look Ron in the eyes. "You'll never guess who I saw in the library today."

"Crabbe?" Ron asked with a smile.

"Goyle?" Harry added.

"Honestly you two," Hermione rolled her eyes but was still smiling. "I saw Professor Fiennes there."

"What was he doing there?" asked Harry.

"Don't know," Hermione answered, but her smile widened. "But, look what he gave me!"

Ron and Harry stared at the pile of books on the table. Each was clearly older than all three of them combined. Harry tried to read a few of the titles, but they looked like they were written in another language.

"What are they?" Ron asked, nibbling on his toast.

"These are extremely rare and old books!" Hermione exclaimed, almost bouncing in her seat with joy. "All of these are the original copy as well as worth their weight in gallons!"

Ron whispered to Harry, "Who would pay that much for some rutty old book?"

"This one," Hermione pulled the top one off, completely oblivious that neither one of them were truly interested. The title looked like something from an Egyptian tomb "Is all about the discovery of time and how the past affects the future."

"Who would know when time began?" Ron asked, waving his hand at the dust that had come off the book. "There wasn't a bloke just standing about when it started."

"It's more about the theories behind the creation of it, not the actual history," Hermione spoke with practiced authority. "No one knows how time really started nor do they know how it all came to be. But history can tell us about the cycles."

Harry began to drift off after that. Hermione kept naming all the books and giving a vague summary of what they were about, while Ron and Harry kept giving each other pained glances. Harry hadn't heard Hermione be so excited about something since she found out she could take twice as many classes as everyone else.

"… and this one is about quantum fluctuations," Hermione ended her long speech about each of them. There were eight in total, each thicker than Harry's forearm. She sat down and smiled at the huge pile of books in front of her. "To think he had scientific books in his collection as well."

Ron raised an eyebrow at her. "What are you on about? What's 'scientific'?"

Hermione and Harry exchanged looks. Of course Ron wouldn't understand what science was since he was raised in the wizard world. Science was something only Muggles did apparently; among other things like surgery.

"Well," Hermione started. "It's something muggles do to try to explain the way the world works."

Ron looked even more confused.

After a half hour of trying to explain to Ron the meaning of science and how everything is made out of energy called atoms, they gave up. It seemed to have only frightened him to think that a billion different kinds of little specks made up his whole body.

When all the books were put away safely in the common room, Ron and Harry left to the grounds for their day off. Hermione stayed behind to start reading one of the many books Fiennes had left in her care.

Once at the lakeside, they saw Neville, Ginny, and the twins. It seemed as though a crowd had formed around them, as per usual. The Twins were getting on with starting a shop this year. They kept releasing new ways to pull pranks on one another or how to get out of class. They had even invented a candy that would make you throw up until you ate the other half.

It worked great in Umbridge's class.

Fred and George were trying to show them a new invention they had come up with. It looked like a peppermint but with blue stripes instead of red. It was about the same size as a walnut and looked to be as hard as one too.

"What's that?" Ron asked, leaning to look.

"Come by to check out the merchandize eh?" Fred asked with a smile.

"Didn't know a prefect would be interested." George continued.

"I always thought they kept to the rules and such," Fred replied.

Ron's ears turned red. "Just tell me what it is."

"Yeah," Harry said. "What you got there?"

After a few others begged from the small crowd around them Fred stood up. He held it up and cleared his throat out like he was about to present some kind of trophy.

"This, my fellow mates, is a rare treat," Fred started out. "It can turn into any little creature you'd like. But it only lasts for a minute. All you have to do is say the word."

"Dragon!" George said and the walnut sized invention made a popping noise. A small cloud of dust appeared around Fred's outstretched hand. When it cleared away, a foot long Dragon stood there baring his teeth and already trying to set the nearest head on fire.

"Wicked!" Ron exclaimed. "Where'd you come up with that thing?"

Fred and George exchanged grins.

"Since Professor Fiennes lent us a book on Word Transfiguration," George answered.

"I didn't like him at first, but he grows on you," Fred said with a smile as he poked the pocket-sized dragon.

"The dragon or the professor?" asked a voice from behind them. A few of the students laughed at the question. Harry didn't, only because he recognized the voice right away.

Standing as though he were observing his garden was Professor Fiennes. A small little smile was playing on his lips and he locked eyes with Harry for a few moments. All the laughter died down within a few seconds when everyone noticed who had asked the question.

"Now, now," Fiennes began as he strolled through the middle of the crowd. "Don't mind your Professor any bit. Everyone must have a sense of humor."

It seemed as though the mood was broken by the sudden appearance of the teacher, though he didn't take any heed to it. He smiled, that small nervous way he usually did, and passed them by. He looked over his shoulder though at the group.

"If you must play such jokes, I only ask you do it inside the castle where prying eyes and ears can't reach as easily."

With that, he strolled back into the castle, leaving all the students to just stare at him.

"What do you think he meant by that?" Ron asked.

"I think he means to do everything more secretly," Dean said from the crowd.

"What have we got to hide?" Harry asked, turning to the crowd.

"What do you have to hide indeed," came a sweetly reply. Harry could feel his insides quiver at her voice as she stared at the students with that curled smile.

Fred and George grinned at each other.

"Just a cold I seem to be getting," Fred replied, covering his mouth as he faked a few coughs. Harry could see Fred chewing something. A few seconds later, the whole crowd of students saw what the Weasley twin had eaten earlier.

A few girls made sounds at the vomit before backing away while. Umbridge practially leapt away from the twins as Fred gagged once more.

"Seems like everyone's catching the sickness," George replied with mock concern. "I hope you don't catch it, being this close to a whole group of sick children Professor."

Umbridge's eyebrows almost vanished behind her blonde hair.

"Y-you're quite right!" She said quickly. "Off to the wing with you lot!"

The students quickly walked off to the castle to get away from the horrible toad. Fred was having more trouble because he kept vomitting every few steps, though he seemed to enjoy it a bit because he kept trying to land it on the trailing cloaks of the younger students.

Once out of sight of Umbridge, George handed the other piece of the candy over to his twin. Fred somehow gulped it down between vomits and promptly stopped. He grinned at the amazed onlookers.

"And to think, it's only 2 Knuts a pop!"


	7. Dream

**The Deceptive Waltz**

_A Story by Kristin Bender_

**Chapter Seven**

**Dream**

Harry had never been so frustrated in his whole life and that was saying something. He idly scratched the back of his hand where last night's detention with Umbridge had left scabs. He was vaguely aware of the fact that they were taking longer and longer to disappear now. Not that a few scabs were on top of his list at the moment of things to worry about.

He sat down below the tree by the lake, happy to have a few moments of peace to himself. The last two weeks had been the hardest of his entire schooling. He was beginning to think it would be easier to deal with another plot for his death by Voldemort rather than have Umbridge point her fat finger in his face again.

After having two talks with Hermione about being more cautious about what he said and another chat with Professor Fiennes, Harry finally started turning a deaf ear to her. Harry could remember the chat with Fiennes very well.

Fiennes had given him another detention for mouthing off, but this time in the hallway. During the detention Fiennes made Harry dust out his office as punishment. Just before leaving at the end, he put a hesitant hand on Harry's shoulder. He seemed to look extremely relieved after a few seconds of seeing his hand there. Before Harry could ask why, Fiennes began to speak.

"You mustn't let people's words effect you so," He said, not quite making eye contact. "Just remember, they do not affect your life and you can easily brush them away."

"Sticks and stones professor?" Harry questioned a little more harshly than he meant to.

Fiennes had smiled, removing his hand from Harry's shoulder.

"You could say that, but I prefer thinking those people who are not close friends, their opinions do not matter," Fiennes explained, crossing his arms. "Who cares what someone says when they won't last but a year?"

Harry was about to ask what he meant when he remembered the curse on the DA position. No teacher had ever worked more than one term. The current Teacher was Umbridge.

Fiennes gave Harry a little push out the door, saying it was far past detention time. Harry had the strangest feeling about asking if Fiennes knew about the Order when he was suddenly face to face with a door.

He supposed he should ignore her but he just couldn't stand it when she did that annoying coughing though!

He threw his hands up in frustration and leaned against the trunk of the tree. The breeze was nice outside now that the classes were through. How Harry wanted to feel the wind in the air.

He frowned. If only his broomstick wasn't locked up.

'I wish Sirius was here,' Harry thought, staring up at the sky.

Harry looked around and saw the rest of the students who had this period free too were going back inside. He sighed and gathered his bag.

When the classes were done and dinner time was finally around, Harry's spirits seemed to be lifted a bit. Ron and Hermione were filling him in on a few of the other teacher's sit-ins with Umbridge. Though, none of them were surprised Binns didn't have a sit-in yet.

Harry seriously doubted even Umbridge could write something bad about him. Other than the fact that none of his students can really stay awake through a whole lesson.

"And then Peeves knocked over a suit of armor, nearly hitting her!" Ron exclaimed, laughing.

Harry blinked, trying to remember that he was supposed to be listening. He figured by the way everyone was laughing; the 'her' had to be Umbridge. He even joined in with genuine laughter.

Harry looked up at the Teacher's table, seeing the same scene that has been playing out since the start of school. All the other Teacher's refused to sit near Umbridge but Fiennes and Dumbledore. They seemed immune to her. Just as Umbridge giggled in that sickening way at a joke Fiennes no doubt told her, a thought occurred to Harry.

"Hey guys," Harry questioned, cutting Hermione's homework reminder short. "Has anyone seen Umbridge sit in with Fiennes' lesson yet?"

"Actually, now that you mention it," Ron started, tapping a finger to his temple. "I don't remember a single lesson with her there for his class."

They looked across to Dean and Neville.

"Not me," Neville stated.

"Me neither," Dean answered.

They all began asking each other down the table, starting a wild fire like conversation that went across tables. Harry looked around and everyone's face seemed to be confused. It seemed not a single person had a lesson with Fiennes and an Umbridge sit-in.

If Harry never questioned Fiennes' ties to the ministry, he certainly did now.

"Don't you think it's strange that he's the only one who hasn't been sat in on?" Harry questioned.

"That is strange," Hermione said. "You would think he would be one of the first people, seeing as how he's clearly teaching us things the Ministry doesn't want us to know."

"You think turning your own body into an animal would cause more attention," Ron said through his dinner.

Harry began to drift into his own thoughts again as he stared up at the Teacher's table. Something wasn't right about this. He was sure about it.

After dinner was all done and Harry made his way back up to the dorm by himself. Hermione and Ron, through many apologies, had to do perfect duties. He went straight into his trunk and dug out his father's cloak. He was going to get to the bottom of this mystery tonight.

He ran his fingers over the material, before folding it up so he could hide it. The only problem he might encounter is running into a patrolling teacher. That was what the marauders' map was for. He carefully folded that up as well inside of the magic material of the cloak.

He tucked the cloak with the map under his shirt and went into the common room. All he had to do now was to wait until everyone else was asleep and then he would sneak out. Though, Harry had no idea where he was going to really go. Other than maybe digging through Fiennes' things and trying to find some evidence.

He soon found out that waiting in the common room by himself, when half the class thought he was crazy, was rather boring. One could only watch others doing homework for so long before sleep would start tugging. He rested his head in his hand as he waited. After a few moments, he drifted off into an unpleasant sleep.

It was dark. The whole area smelled like dust and it made Harry's nose itch. He couldn't sneeze though and he felt as those he weren't in control of his own body. His head suddenly turned to his left and there was someone there. Harry realized that this wasn't like his usual nightmare of seeing the corridor room. This was like the dreams he had during his fourth year, in which he would see what Voldemort saw.

Without thought, Harry's mouth opened and spoke.

"I think it's getting closer to the point in which he must find out."

The other person, who was fully cloaked and face was covered by the heavy shadowing of the room, shook his head.

Harry sighed, bringing a hand to his brow and rubbing it. "You know I don't like it."

The stranger merely shook his head again. Harry could feel the anger swell inside of him.

"What else would you have me do?" Harry all but shouted. "I did as I was asked. I did so without knowing the lengths of which I would have to go in order to do everything I agreed to. Being so close to someone who could unravel everything we have worked so hard to keep secret for the past two years is just plain foolishness."

The stranger stayed quiet, merely pulling his hood down a little further. He shook his head once again, wagging a finger to place it on his lips.

"After all this, you keep quiet when all can be explained," Harry asked is a sad voice. He felt all his anger melt away quick like a cold shower. "I understand your logic. He could easily misunderstand what you almost misunderstood."

Without a response, Harry waved his hand for dismissal. He turned away from the stranger that had yet to speak, and began walking away. Just as he reached a strange hallway, he looked over his shoulder.

"I just thought you had more faith in him."

Just then, a scratchy, older male voice drifted through, "Do what you think is right."

With that, Harry walked to the fireplace. He leaned against the mantle and smiled.

"Do what I think is right," he repeated to himself. "I wish I knew it exactly."

This person is not Voldemort, Harry thought. This couldn't be him. The person was not cruel nor did was he in control of the conversation, if one could call it that. Even though the stranger had yet to speak a single word, his little head shakes had swiftly put to rest whatever he was thinking. He did not rule over the person he was speaking to. That much was apparent.

Yet, the cold feeling in his body told him he wasn't too far off.

If Harry was in his own body, the hairs on the back of his neck would be standing on end. Harry had the distinct feeling he was being watched, and not as the person he was currently being. It felt as though the person he was inside knew he was there.

It was only confirmed when he spoke again.

"Wake up Harry and find me."

With that, Harry woke with a start and fell out of the chair he was in. He didn't waste a second before pulling out the cloak and map to go running to the third floor.

* * *

**AN:** _I am VERY sorry about the long wait. Work has been a killer to me and this was one of my few days off in which I had time to myself. I know all of you are awaiting the realization from Harry in finding out Fiennes' secret. I'm hoping that even though you all know and Harry doesn't know, won't hinder the suspense that is building with each chapter. At least, the suspense I think is there._

_I would just like to take this time to thank every single one of you for reviewing and my GOD the alerts. I always thought the reviews mattered the most (And they certainly do make my job FUN) but the alerts are amazing! So many! Over a hundred! Thank you all for taking the time to read and review. I promise, I will finish this for all of you._


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